Celebrating Earth and Your Day

And so, my love, it is your birthday, not that we began your celebrations that day. We often started on the first of April, sometimes before a daffodil was spotted, but not before the shelves of stores carried Easter eggs and stuffed bunnies.

I will celebrate you in the woods this day. It rained this morning, shades of our walks in the Highlands of Scotland. If I am lucky, in the darkness of the night, there will be thunder and then lightning. You loved a good storm.

This morning a group of people who share this journey on the middle path will gather on a graveled drive and set out into the woods, led by a soul who shares stories of those whose wisdom has stood the test of centuries. Stories told beneath the canopy of green with the goal, like a mother gently waking her child with a kiss on the forehead, to wake and experience the nowness of life, to see life through a child’s eyes, fresh, with each breath making us one with the trees we sit beside.

So with my fellow travelers sitting in a circle, grateful for this glimpse of now, I celebrate your birth, the times we spent together, and the memories that hold me close now that you have traveled on.